I’ve been obsessed with music and collecting records ever since I can remember. I even played a lot of those records at clubs all over the country. And since I grew up in London in the 70s and 80s, a mere bus ride away from the Roundhouse, the Rainbow and the Hammersmith Odeon, you can imagine how many gigs I went to. Well actually, I went to hardly any. Because I have a shameful confession to make – I don’t like gigs. Never have, never will.
Unfortunately, Live Aid changed everything. Gigs became huge, overblown and fiendishly expensive
When I went along to my first one, aged 15, I truly believed that it would herald a lifelong love of live music. The Who were playing a secret gig at the Kilburn State. Though it must have been the worst kept secret in London because half my class seemed to know about it. When Pete Townshend’s windmilling chords opened the show, I almost exploded with excitement. Oh my God! This was The Who, one of the biggest bands in the world, and here they are playing at our local cinema!
I now believe that this might be the biggest thrill of any gig – just seeing your idols in real life. And I bet more people feel this way than would care to admit. It. But after a few minutes, the powerful hit of seeing The Who in real life started to wear off and it was replaced by ingratitude and dismay.
I love The Who but for me, it’s always been about the music; much less about the people who make it. And The Who’s live versions of their big hits were so disappointing. I had all their singles at home and they sounded a hell of lot better than this
I then realised that despite – or maybe because of – my love of collecting records, I’d never be a gig goer. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the shared thrill of a concert or the authentic sound of live music – I really do – just not when that music is performed by the original artists and they fail to match the majesty of their recordings.
Perhaps I should have persevered because I lived in a time when you could see huge acts in small venues. At the Hammersmith Odeon alone, I could have seen Elton John, Kate Bush, The Police, Bob Marley and Roxy Music, all at the height of their fame. I turned down a ticket to see the Sex Pistols because it was the same night as the end of term school disco and it’s a decision I’ve never regretted.
Some bands, though, do have a great reputation for being fantastic live performers. I’m told that I’d have loved The Clash live. But that would have meant liking The Clash in the first place. Ditto Bruce Springsteen.
Though I did break my gig moratorium now and again, most memorably for Live Aid although I’m sorry to tell you, it wasn’t very good. As a spectacular, once in a lifetime groundbreaking, life-altering phenomenon, it remains the greatest rock concert of all time. But musically, not so much. Everyone’s forgotten the under-par performances of Elvis Costello, Adam Ant, Nik Kershaw and Howard Jones. They’ve forgotten that The Who were even worse at Wembley than they had been in Kilburn but they all remember Queen. This is because Freddie, a seasoned stadium performer, directed his every move at the TV cameras rather than the crowd. So if you stayed at home and watched Live Aid on TV, you did the right thing.
Unfortunately, Live Aid changed everything. Gigs became huge, overblown and fiendishly expensive but that’s just supply and demand. If the likes of Imagine Dragons and Catfish and the Bottlemen can sell out the Tottenham Hotspur stadium, why wouldn’t they? And as for Oasis, I’ve loved them since Live Forever but if I’d been offered a free ticket for one of their recent megashows, I’d have declined. Definitely. Not even definitely maybe.
But there was one gig that I absolutely adored. It was at a tiny venue in Shepherds Bush and I saw, among others Ian Dury, Thin Lizzy, Blondie and the Tom Robinson Band. They were each on stage for about three minutes each and their performances were flawless because they were miming. This was a recording of Top of the Pops at the BBC Television Centre. And – heresy, I know – but I remember thinking: ‘Why can’t all gigs be like this?’
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